


To Arms

by SocialDisease609



Category: Captain Marvel (2019), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alot of bisexual energy in this one, Bisexual Steve, F/F, F/M, Gay Bucky, M/M, WW2 AU, WWII AU, bisexual maria, bisexual yon rogg, carl danvers, gay carol, i think carol overall is bi but im making her gay for this fic, it's like Mulan but WW2, lets kill some nazis, made yon rogg an officer who has a thing for carol because he does in canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-02-29 09:40:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18775675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocialDisease609/pseuds/SocialDisease609
Summary: Captain Marvel WW2 AU, featuring Steve Rogers and Co.MAINLY A DANBEAU FIC, just a heads up.In an AU where there are no super heroes, both Carol Danvers and Steve Rogers are selected by Dr. Erskine to test a new military performance enhancer (steroid pretty much), and they take to the European front line in the name of science and freedom!Carol takes on the guise of "Carl" Danvers and finds solace in her friendship with Steve, her mentor Yon-Rogg (who is called Major Rogg in this fic), and something that starts off as a friendship with medical officer, Captain Rambeau.





	1. Before the Battle of the Church

**Author's Note:**

> Just to refresh some memories, if needed:
> 
> Private Hodge is from Captain America, the meat head that was Colonel Phillip's choice for the super soldier.  
> Colonel Phillips is Tommy Lee Jones's character in Captain America.  
> Dr. Erskine is the SHIELD researcher/doctor in Captain America.  
> Johann Schmidt is Red Skull, the mega Nazi from Captain America.
> 
> With that said, let's go kill some Nazis...

“Danvers.”

                “Rogers.”

                The greetings were exchanged curtly. Not because the two officers didn’t respect each other, but because their stomachs were in their throats, both battling the nerves of accepting that they had arrived at their first deployment. They rocked silently in the back of the covered truck that was escorting them their camp near the front-lines in France.

                “Nice hair cut you got there,” Rogers continued with a low whisper, choosing to break the tension. “I think it works.”

                “Do you?” Danvers asked in the same level of sound, reaching behind her head to run her fingers through her short dark blonde hair. She had left some volume on top, but the back of her head was almost buzzed to the skin. “I’m still getting used to it. But I’m glad you think it’s passing. I was a little worried about it.”

                “Don’t worry, no one will suspect a thing.”

                Lieutenant Steve Rogers watched as Lieutenant “Carl” Danvers looked down on the floor of the truck, her gaze vacant, her soul dealing with something inside her mind instead of the outside world. He had first met her about six months ago back in Doctor Erskine’s office. They had both been selected to be a part of a top-secret government experiment, except, the government thought they were both males. Danvers was previously associated with the Women Airforce Service Pilots, and somehow through her missions crossed paths with the doctor. They got to know one another, sharing their personal passions for ending the war and somewhere in those discussions, the doctor saw a potential in the woman, and once he mentioned part of his project, Carol Danvers would not back down in wanting to participate in it. The had falsified her documents, saying she was a male fresh from training, as the doctor had done with Steve’s, and somehow got the stamp of approval to let “Carl” participate. Except Lt. Danvers was luckier than Steve- at least she didn’t have all kinds of aliments getting in the way of her service.   

                But Dr. Erskine assured the generals overseeing the project that his health would not impede on success. During the research stages, both Danvers and Rogers were given gel capsules to ingest, containing a performing enhancer. The doctor swore it would change the future of war, where soldiers would be able to withstand so much more in combat. He claimed the enhancer would make soldiers immune to particular viruses and infections that came about from a waring environment, would give them a higher pain tolerance, and make them somehow stronger. The thing was, not all these claims showed up every time. After four months of experimenting, Rogers had seemed to be clear of his asthma and could now keep up physically with an average man, yet was still quite scrawny, and Danvers seemed to only get the pain tolerance threshold increase. From time to time they would get a burst of extra strength, maybe a bit more stamina, but it did not arrive with every dose. Dr. Erskine tried to hypothesis that perhaps it would trigger their adrenaline better in battle and not in simulated fights. So, both officers agreed to continue the experimentation overseas, left Camp Lehigh in New Jersey to be deployed at war. Dr. Erskine said he would join them to document any future findings, but he had been placed on a different flight and would not arrive until tomorrow. The colonels said it would be better to separate them just in case one got intercepted. Better to have half the research left over than none.

                The truck came to a stop a half hour later and both officers hopped out the truck and slung their duffel bags over their shoulders. The Sergeant driving the truck dismounted himself and came around to meet up with them.

                “Colonel Phillip’s tent is this way, please follow me.” He turned around quickly and began to navigate through the drab camp. Soldiers were either struggling by on crutches or being pulled by stretchers. Some sergeants were huddled together in a smoker’s circle, brows furrowed and silent amongst each other, not even noticing anything else around them.

                “I know we’re at war,” Steve began, “but how’s the morale here?”

                The sergeant turned around for a brief second as he continued to lead the way. “Very low, Sir. We had a heavy defeat last night. The Colonel wants to brief you on the attack the second you get into his tent.”

                “Very well,” Rogers accepted. He glanced at Carol, who nodded in acknowledgement.

                When they arrived, the Sergeant announced their arrival outside the tent, and then was granted entry. Holding the flap open, he followed after Steve and Carol, who went in first.

                “Oh, dear god,” grumbled Colonel Phillips.

                Both Steve and Carol raised their right arm in a salute, holding it.

                The Colonel had a face that looked like he was always disappointed, but both young officers knew he genuinely was in this moment. “I guess I should have read the damn dossiers. I knew we were getting two officers to replace Major Shapiro and Captain Terry, but Butter Bars? And toothpicks at that.” The two continued to hold their salute. With a defeated sigh, the Colonel returned it and they were finally able to drop their arms.

                “With all due respect, sir, we are willing and able to continue the unit’s mission to the best of our abilities.” Carol said, somewhat deepening her voice.

                “God,” the Colonel muttered under his breath, plopping into his chair at the war table. “How old are you, sons? You look no older than seventeen.”

                “Twenty-three,” Carol replied.

                “Twenty-four,” Steve followed.

                “Good aging, I guess.” The Colonel accepted. “Must be damn hard to earn respect with your frames though. And you’re gonna have to work very hard at that. The men in your unit, the ones you will be leading into battle _at sunrise_ are really gonna need some convincing from you two. Shapiro and Terry were tanks of men, sturdy bulls, both of them.”

                “We will win them over, sir,” Steve said with optimism and straight posture.

                “If you say so,” the Colonel muttered. “Anyway, the mission is this,” He got up from his chair and walked to a chalkboard that had strategies mapped out in white scribbles of squares, circles, the letter X, and arrows. “we need to secure the church in the town, which is just an hour away from here by foot. I have already briefed Captain Rogg and Sergeant Barnes on the mission, so no worries about the rest of your leadership team. You will meet them when you meet the men. So, for the past two nights, we have tried to take that damn church. You see, it has a main tower, as many churches do. It provides excellent sniper and RPG defenses. But not only that, it also has two other really high spires at it’s rear that the Nazis really love to crawl all over and provide high ground support from. Basically, there is no way we can move through this town, as our operation demands, to make it to our final objective: the university in the next town over. In this university, known Nazi scientist Doctor Zola is doing some kind of research there. We need to- dream situation: capture Doctor Zola, or acceptable situation- obtain documents on his research so we know just what those bastards are up to. I would have had us try to use our own RPGs on the church towers, but acquiring this fortress for our own utility would be a great defense factor in helping the mission of regaining France… and they’re also limited, we are saving them for armored vehicles.”

                “Understood, sir,” Carol said.

                “Good, so whatever you do, try not to destroy the church. Since the start of this mission to take the church, your unit has lost about six percent of its original soldiers. Reinforcements came in yesterday morning, but out of them, seventy percent went down. Go to the medical tent and find Captain Rambeau. Figure out how much fighting power you have and if you need to borrow soldiers from another unit in this camp.”

                “Yes, sir,” both officers said in unison, raising their hands in a salute once more. Colonel Phillips returned it.

                “Now get out of my tent and win that damn church.”

                They exited the tent, and with common sense, found their way through the camp to find their soldiers at the medical tent. The sky didn’t need to be gray and the weather didn’t need to be drab for it to be a depressed gathering, and understandably so. They had two defeats in two days, and they probably all felt third time was the charm: they were all going to die this time and this nightmare would just be over. They looked like they were ready for it.

                “Oh look,” murmured a soldier with a cigarette hanging from his lips. “Some clean Lieutenants…” Everyone raised their weakened eyes as they scanned the pristine uniforms and faces of the officers, feelings themselves vagabonds in comparison. One of the nurses turned around at the mention as well.

                Steve and Carol instantly raised their hands into a salute once more, “Captain,” they addressed together. The woman raised her own salute and brought it down, allowing the other two to do the same.

                “Hello, I’m the medical supervisor here,” the Captain began, reaching a hand out. “Captain Maria Rambeau.”

                “Lieutenant Steve Rogers,” Steve shook her hand.

                “Lieutenant Caro- Carl Danvers.” Carol cleared her throat upon the correction and shook Maria’s hand.

                “Pleasure to meet you both,” Maria put her hands on her hips. “You have some big shoes to fill, I’m sure the Colonel told you.”

                “Oh yes,” Steve agreed. “And it’s gonna take some time to work towards it.”

                “What numbers are we looking at?” Carol asked, with her attempted voice change. Her eyes fleeted down Captain Rambeau’s body on reflex, her mind drawn to the sight of wet blood soaking the sleeves of her uniform up to her elbows, making the army-green seem brown. There were drag marks of blood crusting on her lapels and shoulders too. The Captain must have been working all day on the wounded.

                “Out of the manpower you have left after last night’s defeat, you are looking at perhaps 50% of men ready for battle. At a precise number, you have 53 men, including the two of you, your lead sergeant, Sergeant Barnes, and your accompanying Major, Major Rogg.”

                “Where are these gentlemen?” Steve asked.

                “Steve?”

                The officers turned around and the eyes of the soldiers followed the voice as well.

                Steve raised an eyebrow, ready to put on his officer air and ask who would dare to call him by his first name, but his face charged with color. “Bucky?”

                “You know this noodle, Sgt. Barnes?” muttered the soldier with the cigarette.

                The sergeant looked at the officers in awe, “This man is my best friend.” He made his way over with a quick jog, then saluted, and broke into the biggest smile of his life since going to war. “Steve- well… Lieutenant Rogers, I knew you were trying to join, but I… I didn’t think they would let you in!”

                “Got in with a special program, I’ll tell you all about it later,” Steve initiated a quick hug, which Bucky accepted crushingly.

                “Hey, be careful there, sarge, you might break the twig!” came the same soldier.

                Bucky let go of Steve quickly and spun around, raising his hand to aggressively point at the man. “You _will_ respect your new officer. BOTH your new officers. Do you hear me, Private Hodge?”

                “What’s are you going to do?” he murmured, blowing a weak stream of smoke out of his lips. “Kill me by putting me in the front of tomorrow’s attack? Let me lean back at camp doing details instead? They both sound good to me…”

                “That’s enough!” shouted a commanding voice. Another man joined the scene, this one bearing the golden oak rank of a Major. Once more, salutes were raised.

                “Major Rogg,” Maria greeted. “These are the new officers for the unit. They will be assisting you in leading the assault of the church.”

                “I see,” the man put his hands behind his back as if he were going to parade rest, but he walked around the new officers, looking them up and down. “And they will make a fine addition to our leadership. Skill and logic can reside in anyone, _that’s_ what you need to lead you into battle, soldiers. Let them prove themselves to you.”

                “Yes sir,” the soldiers all mumbled.

                “Captain Rambeau,” Major Rogg turned his attention to her. “I have a good feeling about this attempt. Move a medic station closer to the town as soon as they dispatch. We are going to capture the church this time. We have seen their defenses twice now, and we know they haven’t received reinforcements either.”

                “We haven’t sent a scout out today, we don’t know if the defenses, with the exception of the church itself, are in the same spots. A wise enemy would either change positions for the element of surprise or add more.” Maria contributed.

                “They won’t be wise this time,” Rogg smiled confidently. “They will be so drunk on their previous victories that they will fall into pride instead of strategy.”

                “No offense, Major, I just want to make sure I’m understanding correctly, we’re trusting this victory on arrogance?” Rambeau asked with an eyebrow arched.

                “Enemy arrogance, experienced leaders like me and Barnes, and two new brains. I’m telling you, I woke up with a good feeling today, and I just _know_ it’s about tomorrow’s operation. Everyone get some good rest, drink plenty of water, and finish your entire Field Ration. You’re gonna need every source of energy.”

 

                Carol was thinking about going to bed early, but as she picked at her metal canteen cup, she found herself to be too anxious to clear her mind, or finish her meal. It was now five in the afternoon and she was attempting to take on dinner. She sighed shakily, shifting herself on the wooden crate that she was sitting on outside her tent.

                “The stewed rice isn’t that bad,” came a voice.

                Carol was startled in her heart, but didn’t move a muscle. She looked forward and saw Captain Rambeau walking her way. She jolted to begin standing, so she could salute, but-

                “Don’t,” Maria ordered, shaking her head and waving a hand. “Please, stay seated. Do you mind if I eat with you?” Carol just then noticed the brown package in the captain’s hand.

                “Of course, ma’am,” Carol answered eagerly. “Would you like me to find you a chair? You can have my crate if you want.”

                “No, that’s okay, I’ll sit on the ground,” Maria said, already lowering herself onto the ground. Carol instantly relocated as well, moving herself off the crate.

                “I can’t sit up here if you’re down there,” she said honestly. Maria didn’t say anything of it but instead started opening up her Field Ration.

                “Do they all just come with biscuits and coffee?” Carol asked curiously. She actually never had a field ration before, and wondered just how this was supposed to be enough to keep a soldier strong.

                “Oh yeah,” Maria confirmed, using the key that came with her can to peel open the metal container. “Biscuits, coffee, cheese, sugar cubes, gum and cigarettes. All a warrior truly needs!” She added that last bit sarcastically. “But we’re lucky some of the French locals have offered to make us food. I would rather have bland home-cooked rice with my biscuits than just the biscuits themselves.”

                Carol took a nibble of one of her biscuits, dropping many crumbs onto her lap.

                “Sometimes you get a different kind of biscuit,” Maria added randomly, watching Carol brush the crumbs away. “Or… if you find a C-Ration, you can get chocolate.”

                “Oh really?”

                “Yeah, the men like to trade cigarettes for them,” Maria chuckled. She opened her biscuits and began to eat them, looking at the camp surrounding them.

                “… What do you think about tomorrow’s mission?” Carol couldn’t help herself from asking. She was scared- she wasn’t going to show it. She knew it was normal, but it was her job as an officer to keep herself together. She couldn’t possibly inspire her men if she was shaking in her boots in front of them.

                “I want to say its impossible,” Maria sighed, “but if I lost all my faith, I don’t think I could make it. Mentally.” Maria set her biscuits back into the tin. Carol felt a little guilty, she hoped she didn’t make the captain lose her appetite. “I see the men come back every day… and it’s just horrible. They all need you so bad when they’re hurting and they need you to tell them it’s okay…” she swallowed roughly. “All I want to do is be there for them and heal every single one of them. Sometimes I get frustrated when so many come back needing healing, but I have to catch myself- I would rather them all come back needing me to help them then have to deal with seeing only twenty or so percent return.” Maria shook her head, “Uh, back to your question. Um. I think it’s possibly, but it won’t be easy. The only way to clear those church towers is to sweep the building from the inside. Every time we try to send a sniper of our own, they don’t have enough time to find a covered spot. The damn Nazi’s have such a good horizon on us.”

                “So what would make our infiltration tomorrow morning any different?”

                “Well, you’re going at sunrise. Kind of an old trick in the book of war- have the sun rise behind you, blinds the enemy before you. We’re hoping the darkness before the rise will help us get into position, and then when you rush, the sun might hurt the Nazi sniper’s eyes. Who knows. We’re trying everything.”

                “So, no artillery, no armored vehicles on our end, no form of rockets… just good old fashioned manpower, huh?” Carol huffed, stirring her canteen cup once more.    

                “You can do this,” Maria said, reaching over to pat Carol’s knee. “I can tell it’s your first battle. But once you get through this one, you will be changed, you will see things differently.”

                “If I make it through-”

                “You _will_ ,” Maria urged.

                “… what was your first battle? Here?”

                “No,” Maria said. “ I mean, I haven’t fought in the sense of charging an objective. My first station was actually Pearl Harbor. I was there for the attack. I was just a second lieutenant back then, like you are now. My services in the triages earned me a somewhat swift promotion and when we finally official entered the European campaign, I requested my commander to assign me to any front lines.”          

                “Did you always want to be in the service?”

                Maria pondered a second, probably choosing her words wisely. “Kind of. I’ve always wanted to fly.”

                “Me too,” Carol grinned. “I was in-” she was about to say she was in WASP, but retracted it quickly. _I’m a man!_ She told herself. “I’ve flown a couple times, but knew that accepting this mission would probably keep me grounded for a while.”

                “I can’t believe you would give up your wings.”

                “Well, it’s not really giving them up. I’ll always have them. And who knows, maybe I will use them here.”

                “Can you keep a secret?” Maria whispered.

                “Oh, of course,” Carol smiled eagerly and leaned closer to Maria.

                “This one time, in Pearl Harbor, a fellow officer- not in the medical field, of course- taught me how to fly.”

                Carol pulled herself back in surprise. “Really? That must have taken quite some time.”

                “I was so eager to learn it took me about a few months to master. I haven’t had any combat experience, obviously, but I know all the basics.”

                Carol nodded, remembering her own learning experience. “That officer though… not a lot of people would risk their own career to teach someone how to use government aircraft… the man must have been enamored by you.”

                Maria blushed and looked down at her food. “Possibly,” she murmured.

                “I don’t blame the man,” Carol continued, opening her stick of gum from the field ration. “I’d probably be tempted to risk myself in an attempt impress a beautiful woman too.”

                Maria seemed to be chewing on her cheek. “Oh yeah? You’d teach a girl how to fly?”

                “For a kiss or something, yeah, probably,” Carol laughed.

                “What a small price. Well don’t get _enamored_ by any of the French girls here,” Maria said with amusement. “You never know who may be a German spy. Unfortunately.”

                “Don’t worry, Captain, I’m all business,” Carol swore in mock.

                “That’s good, hopefully you can get the soldiers to be that way too.”

                “Of course, Captain.”

                “Call me Maria when we’re not in front of the men, please. I need some dosages of old-fashioned human interaction a lot these days.”

                “Of course, Maria,” Carol nodded.

                Maria hadn’t finished her ration, yet began packing it up. “I’m going to bed now. Or try to, at least. I have to make sure everything is ready for making a forward medical camp for tomorrow’s operation. Try to sleep, Carl,”

                Carol felt weird at hearing her alias because she didn’t feel like she was being Carl just now, she was just Carol, but she knew the ruse had to continue.

                “I will, goodnight, Maria.” She said, deepening her voice a little bit more than she had this entire conversation.

                The captain got up and shook Carol’s hand. “Remember, you _are_ gonna make it, okay?”

                Carol looked deep into Maria’s brown eyes, captivated by the inspiration she saw within them.

                “Yes, ma’am. I will.”


	2. The Battle of the Church

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Operation is a go!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made some random soldier names, and some soldiers are beloved character cameos lol
> 
> Also, writing battles is something that I always want to practice at. I hope this one is entertaining and easy to follow. There will be more fights to come and I hope I only exceed at them all.
> 
> Please enjoy!

           The time had come and the sun was beginning to rise behind them as they moved silently and low through the high fields of grain that surrounded their target village. They had divided the men up in four groups, with around twelve soldiers in each (including their leader); Danvers leading one, Rogers leading the other, Rogg with the third, and Barnes with the fourth. The plan was to have Rogers and Danvers’ groups come in head on, being a distraction for Barnes and Rogg, whose groups would split off so one could flank the church from the left, and the other from the right.

            Carol’s heart drummed in her chest and sweat began accumulating around her hairline in anxiety. She flexed her hands that held the stock and surrounded the trigger guard of her M1 Garand rifle. Her and Rogers had taken their supplements an hour prior, and she was hoping to god that they would aid them both in their first, and hopefully not last, battle.

            She couldn’t see any enemies nearby and wondered if they were even patrolling at all, or still in the village. In fact, she was beginning to wonder why the action hadn’t started. Maria did say that the men really couldn’t make it that far in without getting picked off early in each attack. Perhaps they retreated to some bigger goal they were unaware of? However, she didn’t need to think about that right now. What she needed to do was find a way to protect her squad. While it was their job to attract attention, there would be no good in a distraction if they were all mowed down in ten seconds. She needed to help them find some cover. She could see the tall church tower further east down the road.

            “Someone get eyes on the tower,” she whispered. “Check for snipers.”

            “Yes, sir,” someone whispered behind her in return. They entered the cobblestone road of the village and Carol’s eyes shifted from right to left. Perhaps she would shelter them inside one of the stores, or keep them on the street- but behind vehicles? It was more likely for bullets to penetrate the hull of automobiles than it was a brick wall, but putting them in a building also trapped them. But if one of these buildings had a back door that led to an alleyway that was less observed by the enemy, they could close in closer up than down the main road. The closer to the church they were, the bigger the threat they became, and the less likely the enemy would notice the flanks closing in.

            “We’re gonna go-” Carol tried to whisper her command, but was cut short by a riotous command shouted up the street in German. Before she could order the men to take cover, bullets ripped through the air, puncturing the dirt and stone road and brick walls of the buildings. It continued to resonate in Carol’s ears as the gunner down the road left his finger on the trigger of what was, no doubt, an MG-42. It sounded like the most disorganized drum line on a tortuous repeat. The men knew what to do, though, and hid behind cars and newspaper stands. Crouching behind a car herself, she tried to peek through the windows. Somewhere to her right, Lt. Rogers was also commanding to his team, ushering them behind any kind of cover they could find. The men began firing back, taking any risk to kill the gunner.

            A flash of movement to Carol’s left caught her eye. Turning on survival instincts, she raised her rifle and pointed. Her trigger finger pulled down heavily the second she saw the grey uniform and swastika arm band. The shot was louder than the roll of ammunition being fired by the enemy. Her first kill ever. The young man fell to his knees, blood streaming out his chest and spreading on his coat, then collapsed face forward onto the sidewalk. There was no time to asses her feelings, and another Nazi followed out the storefront’s door, his war cry filling the air. She never once lowered her rifle. She rapidly fired two successive and the man went down as well, falling onto the body of his fellow fallen soldier with a padded thump.

            “Into the store!” She commanded, her voice a roar. “Make your way cover to cover inside!”

            “Grenade in!” Shouted a soldier behind her, and the projectile rolled into the doorway. It wasn’t the strategic move she would have went with, but she understood why the soldier chose it. Carol hit the ground and covered her head, as the grenade ruptured the contents of the store front, blowing all the windows out, glass shards shattering all around. Now they wouldn’t have to worry about the glass exploding on them, and they could fire from the windows if they found a good and safe angle.

            The MG stopped.

            “They’re reloading! Now! Go now!” Carol informed her team, and she slipped quickly into the door frame, crunching glass under her boots. But that was mistake number one. She was so eager to advance, she didn’t sweep. She thought that all the Nazis were dead within from the grenade blast, but one was still kicking. He had been trying to drag himself over the bodies, away from the door, and he was halfway through the threshold of another room when Carol came in. Raising a pistol, he aimed and fired.

            Carol shouted at the burn of the bullet breaking the skin of her left shoulder.

            “Sir!” A fellow soldier had made it inside right as she was shot. Raising his Thompson, spit at least five rounds into the already dying man on the ground. “Sir, are you okay? You’ve been shot!”

            “I’m okay! No, no! I’m okay!” Carol did not want to look at the injury, and knew that the serum was doing its job, as no pain made it to her nervous system just yet. But she was scared. How bad was it? Was she going to make it out? Or was she gonna bleed out? Had it hit a major artery? “We keep pushing!”

            “Yes, sir! Everyone, move in! Move in!” the soldier urged his others to follow through and soon man by man, panicked, ran inside, and just in time too, because the MG had resumed fire and all the soldiers dropped into a crouch, a stream of rounds littering lines of holes into the walls. 

            Carol counted those inside with her. Her heart rate calmed just a bit, everyone was still accounted for. But where was Rogers? Tuning her ears with sharp determination, she could hear him still giving commands to fire onto the MG gunner. The bullet storm moved from the walls to the remaining soldiers outside. She wanted to urge him to come in with her, bring his team- but she understood that he was giving them this chance to proceed up the building without fear of external gunfire.

            “Up the stairs!” she commanded, “Fix bayonets! Clear each room. We need to make our way to the top! Perhaps we can get a better view of the tower sniper if they have one positioned. If not, we can at least pick off the MG gunner!”

            “Yes, sir!” grunted her men in unison. She could tell the adrenaline was moving through their body as erratically as it was in hers, and it strangely comforted her. She felt they were all one. The men filed out of the room and swept the hallway that was at the back of the room. In a single file, they made their way cautiously up the stairwell. When they reached the second floor landing, their steps became lighter and slower. There were six doors in this hallway, and they were all closed.

            “Two watch the stairwell. Four, post in the hallway- of these four, I want you to scan all the doors. The other five, come with me. We are going to clean room by room.”

            The soldiers nodded their understanding. Flexing her hands on her weapon once more, Carol removed a hand to grab the doorknob to the first room on their left. It was eerily quiet. Once the rotation of the handle was complete, Carol forced the door open and she and her men charged in. They swept the room rapidly. Not a single enemy in sight.

            “Clear!” she shouted, her voice cracking. They swarmed out of the room in their tactical formation, making their way to the second room, which was also empty, then the third, then the fourth, and when they made it to the 6th, they all loosened their guard.

            “No one’s here…” muttered a young soldier in disbelief. He must have been fresh out of high school and just as thin as Rogers. She swore she saw his heart thumping underneath all his combat jacket.

            “Let’s continue to the third floor,” Carol ordered with heavy breath. “It’s not that high in comparison to a church tower, but it’s the highest ground we have right now. It might help us take out the MG.”

            “Yes, sir!” There was a light tone in the voice of her soldiers, and she knew it was them feeling safe. Relief washing through them all.

            “Don’t let your guard down,” she ordered.  

            The soldiers started to move, and her moral instincts panicked that she was not at the front. She needed to be leading her men, she wanted to be in the front for all sweeps, but there would be no point in stopping them only to put herself at the front. Slipping into the middle of the tactical line, she raised her rifle along with her men, scanning every inch of space that was revealed to them as they climbed the stairs.

            Carol’s mind clicked faster than her lips could act, and the command never left her throat- all the doors on this floor were open…

            She wanted to shout “It’s a trap!” But the Nazi’s moved faster, and from behind turned over tables and wardrobes, Nazi soldiers perched their weapons immediately, and obeyed at the frantic cry of “Feuer frei!”.

            “Holy shit!” Shouted one of her men, and it became a chaotic spray of gunfire, the flashes of every muzzle in the room flickering with each round. She could hear bullets shredding the bodies of her men all around her. Those wounded took a knee, but continued to fire, doing what they could to steady their aim and ignore their wounds. A couple Nazis fell backwards with shattered skulls as her team took down those who exposed themselves from their cover for a second too long. But Carol had started to panic. In a matter of seconds, they would be slaughtered. She had to come up with something quick. Poisoned with adrenaline, she aimed down her sights and fired shot after shot, blowing chunks out of one man’s shoulder, completely exploding the hand of another as her round came into contact with it, and collapsing the jaw of another as she shot him in the face from her standing point. Her M1 Garand _pinged_ as the empty cartridge popped out of the top of the weapon stock. She reached for her ammo pouches, her hand trembling erratically as she tried to unbutton it.

            “Fucking…. Fucking stop,” she desperately commanded to her hands, feeling her panic reach new heights as her fingers danced around the button uselessly.

            “Man down!” Shouted one soldier to her right.

            “Man down!” Shouted another to her left.

            Tears brimmed in Carol’s eyes as she continued to yank at the stubborn pouch.

            “Medic!” came the fragile cry of another.

            “Fuck!” Carol screamed. She stopped fussing with her ammo belt and dropped her empty rifle, snatching a grenade off her gear pouch. Angrily she yanked the pin and tossed it into one room. Without waiting, she grabbed her second grenade- she had a total of three- and pulled this pin and hurled it into another.

            “ _Granate_!” shouted a Nazi from one of the rooms.

            “Fucking use your grenades!” Carol cried. “Tyler, Yves, Ortega- throw your grenades into the surrounding rooms! Everyone else, provide covering fire. Suppress! Suppress! Suppress!”   

            Her men obeyed, and the wooden floor shook beneath their feet as each grenade went off into the randomly selected rooms. While this was happening, Carol was able to finally open her ammo pouch and load another cartridge into her rifle. Irresponsibly, she knowingly moved into a room that hadn’t been hit with a grenade yet. A part of her knew it was an unwise move, but she was drunk of anger and the urge to protect. She couldn’t stand to hear another soldier drop to the ground. Fuck these Nazis. Fuck them for doing this. For being so evil. For being so fucking annoying.

            “Sir!” Cried the voice of a soldier. “Following the Lieutenant!” he notified the rest of the team that was still standing.

            Carol boldly passed through the threshold of the room and aimed spectacularly, killing one Nazi with a shot to the stomach, then moved with smooth speed to the next, missing his core by shooting his elbow, which tore the limb right off the joint, blood splashing everywhere like a popped water balloon. Then she killed another, and another, and another, as Carol’s heart beat with satisfaction. She could hear the rifle of the soldier who followed her in drum in her ear behind her as he took down each who tried to take her on. And then a bullet whizzed by her and made a sick _thunk_ to her right. The groan her soldier made snapped her of her concentration.

            “Son!” She shouted, turning to watch him sink against the wall. He ended in a sitting position and gazed, his arms limp at his side. It was the young one she noticed earlier. Was he dead? Was he weakened? Then the burning sensation she had felt at the floor level returned to her, as she was pushed back by one, two, three bullets, punching her left hip, a rib directly under her right breast, and the last through her left bicep. She swallowed, anticipating further pain, but nothing, except for that in her heart. She looked upon the Nazi who had shot her and the fallen soldier. He was the last one in the room. Her eyes burned with pure hatred, and she moved forward, her boots thumping into the floor underneath her, and the Nazi looked up from his kneeling position, trembling at the sight of her: blood gently streaming from four wounds, staining her uniform in brown blotches, yet she stood tall and powerful. There was the devil behind her eyes, and behind his, cowardice and awe. Wasting no time, yet spending all passion, she exclaimed a feral battle cry and raised her rifle, her bayonet tip shining in the rising sun coming in through the window, and plunged the blade into his chest.

            The Nazi made a gurgling sound. She ripped it out of him, them puncture him with it again, and again, and again, and again. Tears brimmed in his eyes and blood spilled heavily out of his trembling lips. He then slid himself off her blade as he succumbed to death.

            Heaving her chest deeply, she realized that the fire had ceased in the hallway. “Status?” was all she shouted as she moved to the windows.

            “All clear! Two men killed, two men injured!” someone had reported from the hall.

            _Three and three_ , she corrected to herself. “I need two men to bring the wounded into this room, the two best sharpshooters we have to accompany me to the window, and the rest to watch the staircase!”

            “Yes sir!” the men responded in a jumble. They did as they were told, and she heard the grumbling and groaning of the wounded being carried in, and the disheartening sound to the lifeless bodies being laid inside.

            Two men reported by her side at the window.

            “Sir!” baffled one of them. “Sir! You are severely injured! You must sit! We will grab the team medic!”

            _Thank god he is still alive_ , Carol noted. “I’m fine,” she muttered. “You see Lt. Rogers’ team? They are still taking MG fire. And look,” she pointed out the window. “There are three of them dead in the street. The MG is unaware of us taking the building. I’m gonna take a shot at him, and I want the two of you to watch _that_ ,” she pointed to the church tower further down the street. “If you see anything, even the slightest sun reflection, I want you to fire right at it, you here?”

            “Sir, you need to sit down,” the soldier continued.

            “No!” Carol shouted, impatience surging from being affected by the fog of war. “I am going to kill this fucking MG and you are going to kill the sniper. Is that fucking understood, Corporal?”

            His face blanched. “Yes, sir.

            “Good.” Carol turned back to the window and broke the pane with her bayonet. Manually triggering the weapon to spring out the cartridge, she reloaded it with a fresh and full one. She took a deep breath and exhale as she took aim. Closing one eyes, she hovered her sights over the gunner. She took a few more steady breaths before she was satisfied with her aim towards his helmet. She exhaled as she pulled the trigger, the thunder clasping in her right ear, and she grinned as she saw the Nazi gunner fall backwards, blood pooling from under his head as he lay dead on the ground.

            “Rogers!” She shouted from the window. Down in the streets, Steve had looked up from the window. “Advance! The rest of my team are going to join you. I’m leaving a sharpshooter to take out the sniper when he shows his face!”

            “Understood!” Rogers shouted back with what little chest he had to projected it over the fire fight. “Men! Advance! Quick! Find cover further up before they replace the MG gunner!”

            _Boom!_

            Carol shuddered in shock, smoke trailing up the muzzle of her soldier’s rifle. Eyes wide, she simply stared at him for an explanation.

            “Got him…” he smirked lightly.

            Carol grinned. “Nicely done, Corporal… Barton. Keep an eye on the tower if they replace him.”

            “Yes, Lieutenant.” He nodded. He began to move to a different window, and Carol approved- it was always best to constantly change your position as a sniper.

            Carol turned around and looked around the room. With Barton watching the tower and considering her deaths and wounded, she had five men left, not counting herself. The wounded had all been decently patched up for what a field medic could provide.

            “Who still feels they can fight?” she asked, hands on her hips after she had shouldered her rifle. She noticed the young soldier who got shot after following her in the room was groggily looking up at her from sitting on the floor. Him, and the other two wounded raised their hands weakly. Carol frowned. What good men. “Let’s position you strategically in the room, put you boys in different corners. You are to remain sitting, but keep your pistol in hand and fire upon anyone who tries to enter this room. Protect Barton as he provides sniper coverage, okay?”

            “Yes, sir,” the bobbled their head. The knew she saw relief in their face.

            “You got this, Private Parker?” Carol asked, standing above the young hero.

            “Yes, Lt. Danvers. You can count on me.”

            “Good,” she smiled for her men to see. They watched curiously. She knew positivity went a long way when it came to motivation. “We’re doing great. You all really did well in the hallway. That was quite a challenge. I know we’ll get the objective. You’ll be all looked at when Captain Rambeau brings her medical team inside the village in a few hours.”

            “A few hours, sir?” Pvt. Peter asked hopefully.

            “Oh yeah, no doubt,” Carol answered with confidence. She didn’t know if it was actually true, but maybe if she spoke it into existence, it would work, and the men just might fight with hope. “Alright, the rest of you, move out, we’re joining Lt. Rogers.”

           

* * *

 

            When they rendezvoused with Rogers’s team, both Barnes’s and Rogg’s teams were closing in on both sides, and anyone who tried to approach the MG or church tower was taken out quickly, thanks to Barton’s sharpness. In fact, as they reached the street in front of the church, a Nazi had fallen out of the tower upon being shot and splattered himself on the cobble stone road. Nazis had posted themselves by the waist-high concrete encompassing wall, firing from this position.

            “There’s gotta be more inside,” Carol whispered to Steve as the peered over a smoking car, which had previously been erupted by a grenade.

            “Definitely,” Steve breathed, his eyes scanning the fortification. He then briefly glanced at Bucky’s formation towards the left. “I think we might be ready to storm. Well, once we take out the wall defenses. We got this, Danvers, I can feel it.”

            Carol could feel it too. This was it. They had made it close enough that soon a sniper in the tower would be no threat to them on the ground, and hopefully the Nazis had learned not to put anyone up in the tower anymore with Barton’s effecting picking.

            “I think we should toss one grenade behind the wall… if anyone has any left, and it will cause them to disperse or hit the ground. Once it explodes, me and a few men could charge in and sweep that section. We will draw the attention of the rest of the line, giving Major Rogg and Sergeant Barnes’ formation a chance to shoot them while distracted.”

            “Okay,” Steve considered, nodding his head. But then his jaw dropped as he took in Carol’s state. “Danvers… you’re…. you’re not in good shape. If that’s all your blood-”

            “I’m fine,” she retorted. She wasn’t though. There was still no pain, but there was definitely lightheadedness and she was feeling unusually cold. But they were almost done! They were so close! She couldn’t give up now! She turned on her toes to face her remaining men who were crouched behind her. Steve’s men were crouched more dispersed behind other cars.

            “Look,” she said, “Who has anymore grenades?”

            “I do, sir.” Answered one, raising his hand as if in school.

            “Good, I need you to chuck one behind the wall on my command, okay?” She could hear Steve briefing his team too. “Half of us are gonna charge upon its explosion- with half of Lt. Rogers’s team. The other half is gonna provide covering fire, okay?”

            “Yes, sir!” the chanted back. Carol nodded at their eagerness and then turned back to spectate the firefight. Rogg and Barnes were closing in, but there were less places of cover for them.

            “Now!” Carol ordered, and the soldier chucked the grenade with a powerful arch, and it thumped into the grass behind the concrete gate of the church. The Nazis in its immediate vicinity shouted warnings to each other and split down the middle, diving for cover. Grass and dirt belched into the air from the explosion, and Carol and Steve took off, raising bayonets and battle cries, a portion of their men standing behind to suppress those who would stand back up again in defense.

            Her heart plummeted as in slow motion she saw a grenade pass right by her head from the Nazi side. “Take cover!” She shouted, hoping her men would scatter quick enough. She heard it clack onto the stone road, and she heard the cries of men as it went live. But she kept moving, and she and Steve volleyed over the wall, awkwardly landing on their knees. Quickly propping herself on a knee, she moved her aim quickly down the field, pulling her trigger as quickly as she did in the store building. Some of the men she shot were also shot by others on her team at the same time, and before they knew it, Rogg’s and Barnes’s team came crushing in from the flanks.

            “Damn good work, Lieutenants!” Major Rogg shouted with genuine impress, holding tightly to his Thompson. It made Carol feel proud to receive this recognition from such a high ranking officer. “ _Damn good work_! I knew it! It just knew it- I said it this morning! Tonight, we drink to your victory!”

            “Thank you, sir,” Carol replied, swaying just a bit.

            “Good grief!” Maj. Rogg commented. “Lt. Danvers, you are severely wounded! I refuse to let you into the church.”

            “But sir…” Carol murmured.

            “No, absolutely not. I order you to command your men to set up a defensive perimeter. Sgt. Barnes and I will clean out the church with our men. The town is ours, you have succeeded tremendously. See to your medic and send a runner to Capt. Rambeau to establish a field hospital within one of these buildings.”

            “Yes, sir,” she said lightly, feeling overwhelmingly weak.

            Major Rogg then waved his team to follow him. “Into the church, men! Let’s exterminate these pests!”

            “Lt. Rogers!” Shouted Bucky as he jogged with his formation towards the church entrance, “Outstanding job! Outstanding!” his smile was wide and his eyes were bright. “I knew you could do it!”

            Steve bashfully waived off the compliment but couldn’t stop his smile. Carol and Steve watched the two, still hearty, formations storm the church and heard the chaos of automatic weapons go off without synchronization.

            “Alright, Danvers, let’s go get you that medic.” Steve said, hands on his hips, and turned to Carol. “Danvers? Danvers!”

            With one last unstable wobble, Carol’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and she crashed onto the ground, unconscious.

              

* * *

 

            “Carl!”

            Carol’s eyes fluttered at the beckoning.

            “Carl! Come on Lt. Danvers, I know you’re in there! Wake up!”

            Carol’s eyes opened weakly and saw Maria looking down at her. How much time had passed?

            “Oh, thank god,” Maria muttered under her breath. “There’s the big hero,” she tried to smile. “Listen, I’m gonna treat you for _four_ bullet wounds.”

            “Step away, Captain Rambeau!” came a familiar voice from some other side of the room. Carol weakly rolled her head to the right and saw Dr. Erskine rushing into the tent. “I will take over. He is my patient! I have papers here-”

            Carol realized that enough time had passed if the doctor had finally arrived from his flight.

            “No offense, this is a war zone, and I am the designated medical chief of this area. You can’t tell me to not provide treatment to _anyone_.” Maria answered, annoyed, tearing open Carol’s combat jacket.

            And then reality returned to Carol. She couldn’t have Maria treat her. Dr. Erskine had to, no one should know that she was a woman!

            “Maria,” she whispered, and the Captain looked up at her, but her skilled hands continued their fidgeting to tug her shirt out of its tuck in her pants. “Maria, please,”

            “What is it, Carl? I’ve got you, it’s okay, I’m not letting you go. You’re staying here with me, okay?”

            “Maria, you can’t…” Carol wasn’t strong enough to think this hard, and this was a simple conversation.

            Dr. Erskine stepped forward. “This is an order from Col. Phillips!” He shouted, one last desperate attempt. Maria took one glance at it, eyebrow raised in irritation, and then returned her attention to Carol. She pulled up some field scissors and cut at the bottom hem of the combat t-shirt. She just needed a few snips because then she reached for the parting halves and torn the shirt open in a powerful separating tug.

            “Captain Rambeau!” Dr. Erskine shouted. “The Colonel will hear of this!”

            “Hear of what? Me doing my job? His injuries are too severe for me to waste even a second. If you want to treat so bad, help, but I am not giving up on… him…” Maria’s eyes surveyed the linen bonds on Carol’s chest. She didn’t have to remove them to make the connection. Carol felt light headed again and weak panic gushed back into her system.

            “Captain…” the doctor said one more time, more of a whisper than an intimidation. But Maria didn’t say anything, she just swallowed and reached for her gauze, tweezers, and stitching kit.

            “Stay with me, Lt. Danvers…” she muttered finally, as she dug her tweezers into grab the bullet in Carol’s rib.

            “I…” Carol tried. “I can’t…. I’m sorry. Don’t. Don’t tell.”

            And Carol returned to the darkness of unconscious, fearing that when she awoke, she would be greeted with a court martial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Danbeau coming, I promise lol


End file.
